


Misunderstandings

by waketosleep



Series: Intellectual Intercourse [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-05
Updated: 2010-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waketosleep/pseuds/waketosleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For some reason everyone thinks they're married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misunderstandings

"And here's eggs on toast for you, love, and here's your coffee," said the waitress, setting down the food in front of John and the coffee in front of Sherlock. John mumbled a thanks over the world news section of the newspaper as Sherlock obliviously reached for the sugar packets at the edge of the table.

"May I just say," continued the waitress, who looked as old as John's mum, "that we all find it so _sweet_ that you two come in here like clockwork of a Sunday. You just never see young people with that sort of commitment these days. All rushing round and ignoring each other instead of sitting back and enjoying simple moments." She gave them a saccharine smile.

"Th-thank you," said John, smiling back tightly as she bustled away. Sherlock stirred his coffee and stared vacantly out the window at the street.

John had just taken a bite of his eggs and toast when Sherlock suddenly spoke. "You didn't correct her."

John blew out an aggravated breath through his nose and swallowed quickly, the half-chewed toast scraping down his throat. "What?" he coughed.

Sherlock made eye contact, always startling; it was like being fixated upon by a cat. "She assumed we were a couple and you didn't correct her." He took a sip of his coffee, but he was still watching John.

John blinked. "Oh. Well. It does wear a bit thin. At least I find that it does. People keep assuming, no matter what you tell them anyway. I think I've just stopped caring what they think."

Sherlock's face took on a brief, thoughtful look. He nodded once and went back to staring out the window.

"You're right, you know," said John.

"Well, yes. Wait, what about?"

"People are idiots."

"It's best that one just accepts that outright and carries on. Have you got the business section?"

John sorted through his paper and passed it over the table before picking up his fork again. "Since when do you care about business?"

"I've been playing the stock market," said Sherlock from behind the paper.

John perked up. "Making any money?" Scotland Yard would likely be knocking on their door to ask about insider trading within a week. Then again, rent.

But Sherlock snorted. "Purely a theoretical exercise, John."

John poked viciously at his egg yolks. "Of course; you're above things like income. How much money have you theoretically made, then?"

"With the rise in the Dow today..." Sherlock trailed off. "About forty-three thousand pounds this week. From an initial thousand quid theoretical investment."

Fantastic. John shot a look at the wall of newsprint between them and then sneaked a sip of Sherlock's coffee, wincing at the sweetness. As he tried to set the mug back down quietly, the waitress sailed past their table again and gave him a wink.

John went back to his paper grudgingly and wondered if he could start the crossword without Sherlock noticing.


End file.
